


Rushing Tides

by samcatburglar



Series: A Scale in the Breeze [2]
Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samcatburglar/pseuds/samcatburglar
Summary: Filia goes out for the first time since Val was born, but ends up having second thoughts halfway through. To make matters worse, a certain demon makes an appearance.
Relationships: Filia Ul Copt & Xellos, Filia Ul Copt/Xellos
Series: A Scale in the Breeze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055669
Kudos: 23





	Rushing Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Sam's fic hole, where everything's made up and perspective doesn't matter.

She knew she should’ve stayed home. Filia stands in the shadows of an alleyway, tears pooling fresh in her eyes and spilling onto her cheeks, feeling such a heavy shame drag at her person that it threatens to pull her into the earth and suffocate her. She had felt so pretty in the mirror at home tying ribbons in her hair, turning about in her new dress, putting colored balm on her lips. Now she just feels like the town floozy – everyone was staring, everyone was talking, women and men alike, just gaping with wide eyes and parted mouths. She knew she was twirling too much, she knew she was smiling too big, she knew she was singing too loudly, but stupid, dreamy Filia just couldn’t help herself, could she? She had to just dump Val on a neighbor (read: finally give in to the old woman’s insistence that a young woman like herself should be going out and having a good time, and practically begging to watch the tiny baby) and come to the harvest festival.

She’s having a difficult time breathing when an airily cheerful, and unfortunately familiar voice sounds behind her.

“Why are you leaving, Filia, you looked like you were having so much fun!”

Filia’s shriek is as grating as ever as her tail shoots straight up in the air, briefly revealing the curves of her bare thighs and rear. Xelloss, with more than a little regret, politely averts his gaze. She whirls on him, hands clenched in tight fists. 

“What– What do you mean I was– were you spying on me?!”

“Mn, not on you necessarily, but on your house, yes! You can imagine my surprise to find that you weren’t there so late at night.”

Terror and rage pulls seemingly all the blood in her body directly to her face. “That’s not any better, you creep! Don’t you have anything better to do than just– just skulk around in the shadows to stalk me?!”

The polite and indifferent mask that Xelloss wears twists a little. She has no business nosing into his work life, considering he is very good at what he does despite taking the time out of his very busy schedule to come and do this. “Creep?!My, my, Filia, how rude of a name to call someone who was checking to make sure you and your son weren’t snatched in the night and killed!”

Filia’s bluster dims significantly when Xelloss calls Val her son. As much as her heart yearns and aches and bleeds for motherhood, she remembers Valgaav’s disgust with her, and defers to those boundaries. He has every right to that disgust. Filia is only here to keep him safe and happy…but isn’t that what mothers do? Doubt softens her voice. 

“He’s not– He’s not my son, Xelloss…”

“Very well, your baby-sized tenant!” Now it is Xelloss who is shrieking, showcasing a loss of control that only Filia can elicit, and he loathes her for it. But that loathing only feeds into this cycle of bickering, and the mazoku can’t help but continue to fight to be the winner of this verbal debate. _Why? She is so stupid, she shouldn’t be worth the effort, this should be so easy–_

“Good _grief_ , Filia, is that all you got from that entire –”

“No, Xelloss, I just–!”

“You just _what?_ ”’

“Would you let me finish?!” Filia snarls, frustration twisting her lips to reveal her pointed canines. If he could just shut up for once in his life, maybe they could actually come to some agreements with some things sometimes! Never mind how these heated discussions take two, he’s the one stalking her in alleyways! 

…but he wasn’t stalking her, was he? Once more, Filia’s voice softens. “I just don’t…want to force anything on him in case…I don’t know…” She looks down at her hands. Her hair falls over her shoulders in gentle sweeps of gold. “…were you really checking on him?”

Xelloss makes a short tsk sound, his pique simmering to a drier version of his business-like manner. “Yes, Filia. As much as I would love to see every fish and bird within a ten mile radius die from the sheer volume and frequency of the wailing you would emit upon finding Val dead, I don’t think that is a plan of destruction endorsed by my mistress, therefore…”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, that’s a lie and he knows it. Which is why he had to toss in an insult to make up for the singeing sensation he feels in his gut when he thinks about the real reason. The insult doesn’t seem to land, however. Filia just continues to stand there, blue eyes tinged with a martyr’s grief, and while it makes him want to tear her hair right out of her doll-like skull, this feels more like a stalemate than a victory. A neutral field. His pique continues to fade. 

Xelloss can always work with neutral.

Filia is too wrapped up in the questions that flood her mind like a spring melt to really pay attention to what Xelloss is doing at the moment. However much she loathes his methods, the gesture of looking after both her and Val is a good one. As was the gesture of protecting her and those two children so long ago. As was pulling her away from the trajectory of a falling boulder. as were so many other minute but significant events in their very strange dynamic, which amounts to something profound indeed. He always makes some silly excuse, and while they may be true, something in Filia’s gut tells her that there’s always more than what he says. Yes, he’s made it very clear that keeping Val alive is a direct order from his mistress, but did that call for the silly faces he made to make Val laugh? Did that call for teaching him colors? Or roughhousing with him?

_If it was just an order, why did he spend all of that extra time…?_

Before the dragoness can pull herself out of her dove-soft reverie to say something along the lines of _thank you_ , she looks up to find Xelloss standing inches away from her, fingers brushing against the ribbons in her hair. Casually, with a distant tone of fascination, he remarks, “These are new.”

Scared out of her wits, both of his sudden appearance and the sudden warmth he has instilled in her, she snaps without thinking, “Don’t touch them, they took me forever to tie!”

“Well I was merely going to look at them, but _now_ – ”

“Xelloss, don’t – !” 

“Fine, fine! If only to stop you from whining, I _hate_ it when you do that.”

“Well maybe if you would stop being such a creepy jerk, I wouldn’t _have_ to whine!”

Both of his eyes snap open to attention, a true anger now flashing through his slitted pupils. “I haven’t done anything to you tonight save for protecting you and Val, and all I get are insults? Oh dear, you _are_ in a foul mood, no wonder everyone was staring at you, your manners are terrible! Well then, I’ll be off!”

That small and fragile hope now flares with regret at the thought of him leaving, because it’s never certain when he’ll ever come back. And for Val’s sake (yes only for Val’s, and no one else’s, certainly not her own), she can’t let that happen. Filia reaches out to the mazoku that now turns away from her. 

“W-Wait!–”

 _Leave. Leave. Leave._ He should leave. Why is he staying put? His staff is raised, he should disappear in a heartbeat and leave this self-righteous idiot to cry by herself in a dark and dirty alleyway, why is he still here?

Filia snatches the second she is given. “I’m– i’m sorry. It's my first night away from Val and I’m…I feel like a bad person for leaving him to go out and do something that doesn’t even matter, so I-- I suppose I'm taking that out on you. I’m sorry. Thank you…for checking on him. Really, I was worried.”

…that’s all he wanted. A thank you. An acknowledgement of a job well done, even from the dragoness whose joy sounds like nails on a chalkboard and whose despair tastes duller and duller these days. He takes a breath he doesn’t need. Closes one eye. Neutral ground again. 

“…You’re welcome.”

Filia stares at her fidgeting hands, finding herself in a search of reasons to keep him here on this neutral ground. _With her._ “…they are new, by the way. The, ah. The ribbons.”

“Hm.” Xelloss takes to surveying her again with that one open eye, head tilting in a wolf-like manner. “I’ve never seen you without your bangs, Filly. This dress is new, too. A little risque for you, showing off your shoulders!” A quiet gasp. “Is that color on your lips? Who are you trying to impress, you naughty lizard! ’

“I’m not– just because I am dressed up doesn’t mean I am trying to impress someone!”

Now this anger tastes different. This is an anger stoked by confidence, which is something for which Filia isn’t exactly known. He raises a brow, finding his lips curving into a genuine smile for once instead of his usual passive, noncommittal smirk. “…no it most certainly does not.”

She hadn’t expected that to go as well as it did, but she’s satisfied with it anyway. Her head cants upwards and her lips purse a little. She wasn’t lying, of course, but now that Xelloss pointed out the very things into which she had put every effort so that they would be noticed, she has to know. 

“…Do I look nice at least?”

Of all things, Xelloss laughs. “Oh Filia.” 

He traces one gloved finger slowly across the elegant line of her collarbone, eliciting a sharp, shallow breath from her mouth and a rush of crimson to her cheeks. Xelloss takes note of this reaction, and where he is normally able to parse out emotions on which to feed, something feral in him wants to devour her whole. Wants to claw at her breast and push her back into the wall so that he might kiss her till she bleeds. Barely, barely, he restrains himself, but his eyes are open when he murmurs darkly against her fair temple. 

“Why else do you think people were staring?”

The answer to her question is yes. He does think she looks nice. The impulse to crush her mouth against his is nearly too much for her to bear, and unbeknownst to Filia, that impulse is written all over her face. Her pink mouth is already half-open and her dark lashes hood her clouded gaze. This is wrong. All of this is wrong.

But her lips are already moving and her voice is already murmuring, “Dance with me.”

His eyes remain open, this time with intrigue. _Dear oh dear. She either has been beset by a very sudden fever or…_ “No ‘please’, Filly?”

Filia has no idea how, but her voice dips from a quiet murmur to a velvety purr, “‘Please’ would imply that I’m asking you.”

Xelloss’ slitted pupils dilate immediately, but he forces them to constrict again. He’s never wanted to fuck anyone more in his life. And considering how many people he’s fucked, considering how long he’s lived, he’s terrified of what that means. He wants to make that pretty little voice scream with ecstasy, where the only hymns she’ll sing will be ones of his name, unapologetic, loud, filthy, happy.

If he plays his cards right, maybe he’ll catch her.

“Lead the way, you delightfully rude lizard.”


End file.
